


Hey!  Free Lemons!

by Dresupi



Series: Quicktaser Fics [15]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And also smut, Apologies, As in the citrus fruit, Baking, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, I'm Going to Hell, Kitchen Sex, Lemons, Light Dom/sub, Love, Make up sex, Oral Sex, Pietro Maximoff Lives, Praise Kink, Responsible Food Play, Romance, Shameless Smut, Silly Fights, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Sub Pietro Maximoff, no really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-18 05:01:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8149957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: "When life gives you lemons, keep them.  Because, hey!  Free Lemons!" -Someone of at least SOME importance.Alternately, "Why you shouldn't throw away the last three tablespoons of milk."When Darcy and Pietro have a silly little fight, they kind of remember how awesome the make up sex is.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leftennant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftennant/gifts), [amidtheflowers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amidtheflowers/gifts).



> Okay...sorry this is so late, I couldn't decide where I was going with this. 
> 
> Thanks to Leftylain for helping me come up with the reason for their little fight at the beginning. The way we figure...Pietro grew up as an orphan and you know...poor. And therefore, wasting food would be like...a pet peeve of his. 
> 
> Also, the fact that his hands are dirty is just pure crack. I needed it for the no-touching rule. ;) (You'll see...) 
> 
> Also, cool thing...if you hover your mouse over the 'Sokovian' (Serbian, a la Google Translate), you'll get an English translation. I'll have the translations at the bottom for those of you on mobile, though. ;)

He’d been in the garage all day.  Helping Steve work on his motorcycle.  But mostly avoiding Darcy. 

Something he wasn’t exactly proud of.  He’d left his phone on the dresser that morning.  On purpose, so she wouldn’t call him.  Because he was a coward and he just couldn’t admit when he was wrong. 

And he was so wrong.  So very wrong.  He’d known it about thirty seconds after he left their apartment.  It was a dumb thing to fight about.

She was right.  It was just milk. 

But for whatever reason, when he’d seen her throw it away…

_“Did you drink the rest of it?” he asked, gesturing towards the carton in the top of the garbage can._

_She wrinkled her nose._ _“No?  There was like…three tablespoons left or whatever.  I got a new carton.”_

_“But…you’re wasting it.”_

_“Pietro…” she sighed heavily._

_“Darcy?”  He folded his arms over his chest._

_“Look.  I really REALLY get why you’re like this.  I do, hon.  But it was three tablespoons of milk.  If that.”_

_“Was it expired?”_

_She sighed again.  He was really starting to dislike that sound._ _“No.”_

_“Then…why couldn’t you just keep it?”_

_“I don’t know.  Why can’t you just drop it?  Why does everything always have to be about you?  Why do I have to go through you whenever I clean out the fridge?  If it was enough to make anything with, I’d have kept it.”_

_He scoffed._ _“Everything is NOT always about me.”_

_“That’s what you focus on?”_

_“When you’re accusing me of being selfish, yes.  That is what I will focus on.”_

_“I’m not accusing you of being ANYTHING, Pietro.”_

_“You are, though.  If I make everything about me, I must be selfish, No?”_

_“NO.  No, Pietro.  You’re the LEAST selfish person ever.  In fact, I’M the selfish one.  What was I thinking, throwing out this milk?” Darcy grabbed the carton from the garbage and opened up the spout, pouring it out on the counter.  “Just look at all that wasted potential.”_

_Pietro pursed his lips, crossing his arms._ _“I am NOT cleaning that up.”_

_“Good.  It can just stay there.  Besides.  Wiping it up would be wasting it.”_

_"Ježišmarjá...jebena...luda žena..."  he muttered under his breath.  Not so far under that she couldn’t hear it though.  _

_“Hey, don’t you curse at ME in Sokovian, Mister.  I know all those words.  I am NOT a crazy woman.  If anyone’s crazy, it’s you… SOMA!” She flipped up her middle finger.  _

_He smirked._ _“You said it wrong.  It’s just SOME!”  He mirrored her gesture.  _

_“ Jedi kurac!” she countered.  “Did I get that one right?”  _

_He set his jaw, because yes.  She had.  He turned on his heel and zipped out of the apartment.  Leaving her there with the spilled milk on the counter._

So, when he shuffled in that afternoon, sullen and ready to apologize, he’d been prepared for anything.

Except what he found. 

Darcy…wearing that yellow dress he was so fond of…grating a lemon into a big blue bowl. 

He stopped short of the counter.  Short of entering the kitchen.  “ _Princeza_ _…_ I am so sor—” 

“Shhhh…” she shook her head, tapping the lemon on the grater and setting it aside.  “I should be apologizing.”

The tart smell of the lemon was in the air.  He watched as she pulled out a knife from the block in front of her, slicing the lemon in half and squeezing it over the bowl.  She did the same with the other half, making sure to hold it so no seeds got in. 

“No, Darcy.  It was a stupid thing to get mad about…I shouldn’t…I was wrong.” 

“Well.  So was I.” 

“Darcy…I called you names.” 

“And I called you names.  And I told you to go eat a dick.” 

He snickered.  “I deserved it.” 

She shrugged.  “That…is neither here nor there.  What is here…is this bowl of lemony goodness.  I looked through all my recipe books, and I found this one…” She gestured to the book she had open on the counter.  “Lemon Bars.  And see?”  She pointed to the fifth line down.  “Three tablespoons of milk.” 

He frowned, not really understanding her point. 

She raised her eyebrows.  “Remember?  The milk?  I said if it had been enough to make anything with, I’d have kept it?  This is me.  Admitting I was wrong.  I found a recipe that calls for three tablespoons of milk.” 

“Darcy…please tell me you didn’t make this with the milk you threw away…” 

“God, no.  I wiped that up after you left.  But.  It’s…it’s symbolic, Piet.  I was wrong.  And…I won’t throw the milk out again.  It’s not a huge point of contention.  And I know it’s a thing for you.  So…I won’t.  I won’t do it ever again.” 

“Darcy _…_ it’s not something you should worry yourself with.  It’s…MY hang-up.  Not yours.” 

She reached for the collar of his t-shirt, tugging him close.  “And I love you.  And I should…sympathize more…and you are…God…FILTHY!  What were you doing all day?” 

“I was in the garage…with Steve.” 

She bit her lip.  “Don’t care…get over here.  Try this.”  She dipped her finger into the pale yellow batter, holding it out like an offering in front of her.  He leaned down, sucking her index finger into his mouth before it dripped onto the floor. 

The tanginess of the lemon was surprising.  It went well with the vanilla-y sweetness of the rest of the batter. 

He hummed in appreciation, letting his tongue lave and lick her finger long after the batter was gone.  He didn’t miss the way her breath caught in her throat.  “Delicious.” 

“C’mere…” she murmured, crooking her finger and fish-hooking him over to the counter.  She wriggled her finger free and hopped up on the counter, reaching for him once again.

“You shouldn’t let me touch you…” His voice was low.  His tongue came out to lick his bottom lip.  “You’re all clean and pressed…I’d just smudge you up…” 

Her breath was shallow.  Random bursts of air passing between her lips.  “Just don’t use your hands…” 

He braced them on either side of her hips, pressing against the kitchen counter.  “What should I use, then, _Princeza_?” 

Her gaze broke from his to flick down to his lips, a sly grin spreading on hers as she looked back into his eyes.  Eyes that darkened considerably when he realized what she was suggesting.  Lips that parted as he panted softly, biting his bottom lip and then soothing the spot with his tongue. 

“How am I supposed to get you undressed if I can’t use my hands?” 

“You’re a smart fella.  Figure it out.”  Darcy smirked. 

He mirrored her expression.  “You’re going to eat your words, Lewis.” 

“Should I tell you what _you_ _’re_ going to be eating, or would that be considered crude?” 

A slow blush crept up his cheeks.  “No.  Tell me.  Where do you want my mouth?” 

It was her turn to blush, like she hadn’t been expecting him to turn the tables on her again.  She spread her knees, bracketing his denim clad hips, her skirt riding up her thighs.  “You know where I want it.” 

“I want you to tell me.  Tell me where.  I want to…I want to please you…”  His tone had changed.  Changed from the slightly smug, challenging one to one that seemed a half step from pleading.  From begging.  

“Piet…you _do_ please me.” 

He nuzzled her cheek, pressing his lips firmly to her jaw.  “Tell me what you want, Darcy.  Where should I put my mouth?” 

She dipped her finger into the batter again, dragging it across her lips before sucking it into her mouth.  “Here…kiss me…” she whispered. 

His lips pressed against hers, his tongue sneaking out to lick up the lemony batter from her lips, possibly making a bigger mess out of it.  His hands shook from their place on the counter, itching to run over her curves, to seek out the places he knew would make her squeal.  Scream.  Claw up his back. 

But he abstained.  Both because his hands were greasy, and because he desperately, DESPERATELY wanted to obey her.  Make her come without his hands. 

He hummed into her mouth, the thought turning him on more.  Making him more desperate. 

She dipped her fingers once more into the batter, dragging her fingertips from her jaw down to the swell of her breasts.  “Here…” she whispered.  And he was only too happy to oblige, licking a striped down her throat.  Thinking that he could possibly add lemons to the list of things that got him hard.  He wouldn’t be able to look at another one after this. 

He heard the pop of her lips as she sucked the remaining batter off her finger.  He responded by sucking a mark on her left breast, making her grunt and arch her back slightly. 

She tugged gently at the bodice of her dress, tugging it down just enough that he could see her nipples peeking out.  Two dots of pink stark atop the pale yellow fabric of her dress. 

She ran her thumb over the left one.  “Here…”

Pietro ducked his head, sucking the stiff peak into his mouth.  His tongue flicked it, making her quiver against him.  His name a filthy whisper on her lips.   His hands gripped the counter in an effort NOT to play with the other one. 

She hummed, carding fingers through his hair.  “You’re being so GOOD, Pietro…” 

He couldn’t help it.  He whimpered, the sound was muffled by her breast, but he knew she heard it. He released her breast long enough to murmur, “How good?” 

She spread her thighs further, pressing herself against him.  “So good…you’re SO fucking good…”

He licked his lips and caught her gaze.  “Tell me where, _Princeza_.” 

She pushed him back so she could hop off the counter.  She rucked up her skirt, taking her bottom lip between her teeth.  Her cheeks flushed pink and she glanced down.  “Here…” 

He dropped to his knees in front of her, groaning in absolute, complete, 100% arousal.  Because _fuck_ him.  No panties. 

“Bless you…” he murmured reverently.  Because while he absolutely WOULD have taken her panties off with his teeth…no panties was so much better.  So much. 

He steadied himself, grasping the counter top behind her while she lifted one beautiful leg up onto his shoulder.  Her hand tangled in his hair as he leaned into her.  His tongue flicking out, both to taste and to lick her open. 

He licked upward, finding it somewhat difficult to do what he usually did when his hands weren’t holding her hips still.  She bucked towards him, gently fucking his face as he lapped at her clit, giving up and sucking it between his lips.  She tasted heavenly.  Mixing well with the citrus-y aftertaste still in his mouth from the batter. 

The sounds she was making were undoing him.  He wanted nothing more than to release the counter, pull her down on top of him and fuck up into her until she screamed.  Greasy hands be damned, he wanted to see the smudges on her thighs and ass afterwards.  Wanted to scrub them off her in the shower later. 

But she was panting his name…telling him he was just so, so good for her. 

And he was.  He WAS being good.  His dick hung heavy between his legs.  Painfully hard…he was aroused to the point that he was shaking with it.  But he was good.  He was so good for her.  Darcy would take care of him.  And it would be better _because_ she took care of him. 

She knew what he liked.  Knew how to get him off quickly if that’s what he needed. 

He knew what _she_ needed too.  He grunted against her, using his powers to speed up his tongue, vibrating it on her clit while he reveled in the way her hand tugged on his hair.  In the way she said his name when he did it like that.  

In the way she shuddered as she came. Her legs wobbling as she slid the one off his shoulder, kneeling down and pressing him back on the floor.  She made quick work of his jeans, unbuckling, unbuttoning, unzipping.  She had him in her hand in no time at all.  Her dainty fingers squeezing and pumping his cock, leaving him gasping and desperate when she stopped.  While she climbed on top of him. 

But it was only for a second.  Just long enough to line him up and slide herself down his length. 

“ _Kurna_ _…”_ He mumbled, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.  “Can I touch you?”

“Thighs…hips only…” she agreed, hiking up her dress and moaning as he grasped at her.  Hard.  Pulling her down as quickly as she could rise up.  Slamming her hips against his.  Fucking her up and down his rigid cock and telling her every single thought that passed through his mind. 

“Wanna fuck you forever, Darcy…” he whispered.  “Show you how sorry I—” 

“I know…” she panted.  “Forgive you…”   

She knew.  He rushed out a quick “I love you…” He was so close.   

“Love you too, Piet…” 

He came on a muffled shout as she leaned down to capture his lips.  Her hips still working up and down until she shivered, her walls clamping down on him as she found her second release.  

She sat up, reaching around behind her to unzip the dress.  Tossing it aside before laying down on top of him. 

“I didn’t get the dress dirty, did I?”  She shook her head in response.  “Good.  I like that one.” He ran his hands up her thighs, thumbing over the dark smudges he’d left there.  

“I know you do.” 

“Are you still baking those lemon bars?” 

“Why?  Do you want one?” 

He shrugged.  “Kind of.” 

Darcy giggled.  “As soon as I can stand up, I’ll bake them for you…might need to use a smaller pan.  We kind of…ate a lot of the batter.” 

He ran his hand up her back, fingers dancing up her spine and making her press against him.  “I don’t deserve to be with you.”

“Yes you do. Know why?” 

“Why?”

“Because.  You are so very _good_ at loving me.”

He sighed, inhaling her scent and pulling her close.  “I _do_ love you, Darcy.” 

“And I love you, _Some._ ”

He chuckled against her.  “ _Ženo moja luda_ …”

“That’s right, I’m yours.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Ježišmarjá...jebena...luda žena...-Jesus Christ...fucking...crazy woman  
> SOME!-YOU STUPID ASS  
> Jedi kurac-Eat dick.  
> Ženo moja luda-My crazy woman
> 
> Thank you to abbie-a-aaronson for fixing my Serbian.
> 
> Just letting everyone know before you blow up the comments with this. No sugary batter touched anyone below the belt. And no greasy hands touched anywhere delicate. ;)


End file.
